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A little rambling; a little advice.
Ofobuike Chibuikem
Ofobuike Chibuikem
8 months ago

I’m a beggar. Pleading my pen to write away this fear.



Exams begin some days from now and I am tensed. Not the normal bearable exam tension—the type that helps me focus and read better. No. I feel my heart beating hard, trying to leap out, screaming fear. 


Last month, I bought coffee. I think that was the first little sign. I was worried there was not enough time before the exam. I didn’t use it much; I felt I might die. What was a little exam pressure I hadn’t felt before?


But maybe months of eating subpar café food and drinking garri had sapped away much of the confidence I used to have towards exams.


This evening, I would have screamed in class if not to protect the little reputation I had in front of the other students reading. What do you mean I could only remember that the citric acid cycle starts with citric acid, and nothing else? Okay, I read that months ago; but why couldn’t I write down the enzyme that converts Tryptophan into Formylkynurenine? I read that just two days ago! I read it!


Slowly, 0.8 second was too much for my heart to complete one cycle: “What enzyme will I forget— no, what enzyme will I even remember in exam hall? And there will be no textbook to remind me like now that pyrrolase is what converts Tryptophan to Formylkynurenine.”


Now I could almost hear my heart racing: “Why do I always forget that methionine produces propinyl coA at the end of its degradative pathway hence is glucogenic?” “Why do I not remember the enzyme deficiencies of even 2 glycogen storage diseases?” “What am I even going to write come exam day?”


Shivers. Heat. Tears. I understood why my course mate cried when we attempted past questions last week. The realization that you knew very little so close to exams. The fear that you’ll be so sure of a woeful score before you submit your answer sheets.


Now I only want to write. Writing is magic. And I plead my magic pen to write with the ink of my fear and let it flow. If you’re fearful like me, then write. Seal your fears into paper. Burn the paper and watch the wind carry your fears to its maker and send you peace. Then read, and hope that we remember.

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